


A Present for the Ages

by RisuAlto



Series: Junisce's Story [3]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Birthday, Gen, I love Sagani, Itumaak is a tsundere lmao, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nicknames, Other characters are mentioned but only for like a sentence, can you tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisuAlto/pseuds/RisuAlto
Summary: Having lived on her own most of her life, Junisce wasn’t used to people making a big deal out of birthdays.  But, she supposed that maybe not all the changes that came with being a Watcher had to be bad.
Relationships: Sagani & The Watcher (Pillars of Eternity)
Series: Junisce's Story [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548025
Kudos: 3
Collections: Pillars of Eternity Prompts Weekly





	A Present for the Ages

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt #0006, "Birthday."
> 
> I have so much trouble with birthday fics. I never know what to do with birthdays in real life, much less in fiction… but I think this worked okay. I got to make Sagani a bigger part of a story for once, so I’m actually quite satisfied. This story takes place at some unidentified point during the beginning (ish) of Act 3 and at one point mentions a non-canon detour to Gilded Vale following the party getting the heck out of Defiance Bay at the end of Act 2. You can read about that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479569).

The city was bright and muggy this morning, almost as though Defiance Bay was even standing up to the change in seasons by remaining as oppressively warm as it had been for the past week. Chatter like the buzzing of insects, swelling and fading in accordance with a few punctuated shouts of prices, wrapped around Junisce’s shoulders like an itchy blanket as she tailed Sagani up and down a few alleys. She was grateful for the noise, in a way, but only in the same way that she was grateful for spiders—which was to say, she understood that spiders served a purpose in the natural order, but it didn’t make her any less uncomfortable around them. And blankets of any kind under the midday summer sun were just, frankly, smothering. 

Neither Junisce nor Sagani had spoken a word since they left the tavern that morning despite having agreed quite cordially that they were going to peruse the market. It seemed neither woman had anything in particular to talk about, but after weeks of traveling with Edér, Kana, and Durance at her back, the lack of any and all discussion was unsettling. Instead, Junisce’s own breathing began to stand out in her ears; the smell of the streets was suddenly a vibrant mix of dust, sweat, dirt, rot, and perfumes rather than one ambient thing; and the actual _threadcount_ of her leggings was making itself known to her uncomfortably damp skin.

Her toes curled and she staggered as an uneven jut of cobblestone jammed itself into the arch of one foot. Like she was suddenly fourteen growing again, Junisce felt her knee nearly buckle under her at the sudden contradiction of where her limbs _thought_ they should be and where they really were. A hiss slipped past her teeth and she glared down as if daring the road to try something _else_ to make her day more uncomfortable.

“You alright?” Sagani asked, turning back with one shoulder. Itumaak perked his ears up, as startled as Junisce was to hear his friend’s voice.

“I’d be better if the city was a little _less_ blessed by Magran. I know summer just ended, but the city _really_ doesn’t need to be half on fire,” she said, casting her brown eyes up to the sky, then back down to a nearby statue. As always, a marble figure stood vigil over the citizens of Defiance Bay. Her chin was raised proudly, and the brazier held above her head made for an impressive display of divinity, flaring and burning without ever needing fuel. Without ever actually consuming anything. The twisted symbolism made Junisce’s stomach stir—Magran was the deity of purification and transformation as much as trial and flame, neither of which were possible without losing something.

Clouds drifted in Junisce’s head as she continued to stare at the statue, and something inside her squirmed uncomfortably, struggling to reach her consciousness—

Sagani’s voice broke into her thoughts a second time. “Starting to regret helping that priestess?” she asked teasingly. The haze cleared from Junisce’s senses, though the oppressive heat and sweat on her skin remained, which was almost as bad as the Watcher thing—or what she assumed to have been a Watcher thing.

Instead of focusing on that, however, she simply shook her head. “And miss a single one of Durance’s tirades against his goddess? I _couldn’t._” A wolfish grin tugged at her features.

Sagani rolled her eyes. Seemingly satisfied that Junisce wasn’t caught in a vision or actively dying, she turned back around to follow Itumaak, who had already gone wandering deeper into the market chasing a trail of venison smoke.

Junisce jogged lightly to catch up so they were walking shoulder to shoulder (to haunch), and finally, she took a deep breath and asked, “So, what are you looking for out here in the market? I thought you said you didn’t really need coin for anything.”

“I’d prefer to barter, if I can,” Sagani said, pursing her lips. “I meant to look for something for one of my kids. I used to bring them all souvenirs every time I went on a long hunt, and this one is by far the longest. For a while, I just picked up anything I thought they’d find interesting, but that was back when I thought this was gonna take a few months at worst.” Sagani was suddenly staring at something far away, fingers absently tapping against Itumaak’s head. He stood very still, a rock to guide her back into the present. She eventually continued, “When I realized I was going to be gone for a lot longer, I started only picking stuff up on the kids’ birthdays. But between the…riots, and then our detour back to Gilded Vale, it seemed like the only things we could pick up wouldn’t be very happy memories.”

Junisce fought hard to avoid revealing the chill in her spine as she thought over the events of the past two weeks. “You’re right on that count,” she said, voice leashed into something low and even, if not totally honest. “So, one of your kids had a birthday during all that?”

“Actually, Najuo’s birthday is today,” said Sagani. Though ghosts of what she had seen—what they had all been through—after the animancy hearings were etched into Sagani’s soul like crow’s feet, but her voice was still somehow lighter than Junisce had heard in a good while. Her expression fell just short of a smile, but for now it was enough. “I figured getting my kid a gift was a good enough reason to brave all… this.” Sagani nodded briefly towards the horde of cart stalls around them.

However, Junisce’s attention was elsewhere. “Today is… definitely 2 Inauton, right?” she asked, focusing on a half-eaten apple that had rolled into a corner near one of the buildings.

“Yeah.” Sagani paused to investigate some contraption that had caught Itumaak’s interest and looked at Junisce. Her brown eyes narrowed suddenly, sharp as a tack, as she leaned up and asked, “Why?”

“It’s nothing.” This was, of course, a lie, but Junisce also wished it were true. Any other year, she would have let the Autumn Falling pass with only a few thoughts that strayed from the norm. But all this talk of birthdays (and if she was being honest, the way Sagani always spoke about her children and Kallu; the way Grieving Mother expressed her utter joy at the beginning of life; the way Edér confided he’d have wished for more time with Woden) had jarred something loose in her. Or maybe it was more that something snapped into place, finally completing a framework of understanding. 

Either way, there was nothing to fill this new space in her soul, and the sadness of it must have broken through on her face, because Sagani suddenly pulled her under the shade of a wagon’s tarp. Junisce’s free fingers curled and uncurled a few times in succession as she tried, unsuccessfully, to settle her emotions.

A nearby crate groaned gently under Sagani’s weight. She leaned forward, searching every inch of Junisce’s expression the way one might search for traps on a forest path. “Jun…?”

The gentle tone and quiet concern crashed into the Watcher like a charging boar. Her lungs were suddenly empty of breath, as though she’d been struck in the stomach, and her head was spinning, but it was nothing like one of her visions.

A mundane memory played back behind her eyes. Junisce heard Sagani telling her the details of her family for the first time, remembered the way Sagani had sounded when she spoke of how she and Kallu had found friendship, then love, and eventually family in each other.

And then, when Sagani confessed that two of her children had been lost, Junisce remembered looking deep into the woman’s eyes, only to be met with a kind of heartbreak so deep that Junisce wasn’t sure she could fathom it. The waves of pain and loss weren’t pretty on Sagani’s face, nor were they natural, and Junisce wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But she also saw that behind the film of sadness, there were good memories. There was love. And, selfishly, Junisce found herself hoping that if her own mother was still alive, then maybe she loved her enough to feel even half that grief for a life they never got to live together.

Despite the horrid temperatures still beating down on her, neither the warm hand on her forearm or her shoulder bothered Junisce one bit. Instead, she found herself feeling strangely steady for a woman who had been nearly bowled over in shock a second ago, and she had to stop herself from pressing Sagani’s grip tighter around her arms.

“Did something happen today?” Sagani was asking.

Junisce shook her head stiffly. “No,” she said, then cleared her throat. “No, it’s just… today is also my birthday.”

Sagani blinked. “Huh. You don’t seem to happy about it.” She rocked back on her heels, arms dropping back to her sides.

“Well, I mean, it’s not really my birthday,” Junisce clarified, reaching for the hilt of her weapon at her hip if only for something to occupy her hands. “I don’t… actually know for sure. All I know is that when I was a baby, somebody found me near some river wrapped up in a blanket that had my name on it, and that was twenty-four years ago today.” The leather wraps on her flail were less than comforting, so Junisce drew her hand away and ran it through her hair, ruffling the locks so they cast a short-lived breeze over the back of her neck. “It’s almost definitely not my real birthday or my real age. And ‘Junisce’ might not even be my real name, but it’s what I’ve got, so…”

“Works for me,” Sagani said the moment her sentence faltered, posture relaxing fully as Itumaak joined them behind the cart and curled around his friend’s ankles with a soft, growly sigh. “Unless you want to change it.” 

Junisce found herself relaxing, too, and she exhaled a breath she didn’t realize was trapped in her throat. “Nah.” She held a hand out towards Itumaak, who sniffed it once before shaking himself and walking neatly away. Sagani chuckled as Junisce let her arm fall back to her side with a tiny smile. 

A bubble of thought suddenly burst in Junisce’s mind, spreading a tiny idea from the base of her skull all the way to her toes. Her skin fizzled with it as she said quickly, “Actually, I kind of like ‘Jun.’” Each word she spoke made her more sure, and so despite her excitement, her voice was as steady as ever.

“Jun’s a good name,” Sagani said with a nod. “A nickname if nothing else.”

“My first birthday present in over a decade, and it’s a new nickname,” Junisce mused. Her expression curled mischievously. “Better not tell Najuo what you got me.”

Slowly, the two hunters and Itumaak made their way back into the midday crowds and began perusing one of the stalls with particularly well-made weaponry. “They’ll live,” said Sagani, running a hand over the flat of an engraved hunting knife’s blade with a sparkle in her eye. “Especially considering they’ll be getting five _years’_ worth of presents when I get home.”

Using her height to her advantage, Junisce smoothly snatched the blade out of Sagani’s reach and dropped a pouch of coins in its place, nodding meaningfully towards the shopkeeper. Immediately, of course, Sagani went to protest and Itumaak’s ears lay slightly flatter against his head in sympathetic indignance. But Junisce flipped the knife in her grip and offered the handle back to Sagani.

“I know you’re supposed to buy it for them,” Junisce said, “but this year is already pretty different…for all of us. So, I hope this is okay.”

A moment passed, and Junisce clenched her teeth through a shiver of anxiety. But then, she felt a gentle tug and uncurled her fingers, looking up to see the warmest of smiles on Sagani’s face greeting her. “Now there’s a story to go with it,” she said, taking the dagger in one hand and setting it into a leather pouch. “Najuo will love it. Thank you, Jun. And happy birthday.”

For a second, Junisce could have sworn she felt something like a tail brush across her shins, but Itumaak was nowhere near her when she finally pulled her gaze away from Sagani. She grinned to herself anyway. It was progress, and for this year, she’d call that good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Jun: "I'm Junisce. My friends call me Jun."  
Aloth: "Really? Who?"  
Jun: "Mom."  
Aloth: "What?"  
Jun: "I said, no one. No one does that."  
Hiravias: "I'm no one."


End file.
